Silence is Golden
by kmreece
Summary: In a world where keeping quiet keeps you alive, Daryl decides to learn sign language from one of Hilltop's newest members. Daryl/Connie. Donnie. Rated M because it's the Walking Dead.
1. Chapter 1

_**Welcome to my first Walking Dead fic. Ever since the newest season began, I haven't been able to get over watching Daryl learn to sign. So here we are with a fluff piece. Just wanted to post this to see if there was any interest. It is a Daryl/Connie (Donnie) fic, but I haven't figured out exactly where I want to go with it. Just had this idea in my head and figured I'd see where this season takes us. There probably won't be regular updates to this. **__**Sorry!**___

_**Because evidently this is necessary, I do not own the Walking Dead. **_

The single walker outside the fence was put down with a bolt through the eye.

Daryl lowered his bow and strode over to the body. It had been a man once. Now nothing but a thin husk of skin and bone. He removed his bolt and wiped it on the dead man's clothes before striding back to the gate and the people waiting there.

"Are you sure you'll be okay?" Michonne asked for the millionth time.

Daryl fought the urge to growl at her repeated question. In his younger years, he would have angrily asked if she didn't think he could handle himself. But now he understood that it was merely concern.

"Won't be gone long," he replied. "Just want to check in. See how much damage that last blizzard did."

Winter had been particularly hard that year, dropping a couple feet of snow every few weeks, making travel between the communities nearly impossible.

"They said they were fine," Michonne argued, referring to the ongoing reports they had received via radio.

"Rather see it for myself," he said with a shrug.

Alexandria had been lucky. The walls had held, their food storage had been more than enough, no one had died.

Hilltop's reports had said mostly the same, but Daryl knew Ezekiel could be sugar coating things for Carol's sake. So he was determined to go and check anyway.

Michonne nodded and stepped away as he pulled on the protective gear she and Carol had insisted he wear for his journey. Though the ice and snow had mostly melted, it was still cold and there was still plenty of standing water on the roadways, making riding his bike more dangerous than normal.

"Dog!" he yelled as he straddled his bike, kick starting the motor, and slowly got it rolling toward the gate.

The animal bolted ahead a few yards, then zoomed around, tongue lolling, obviously enjoying himself. Winter had been even worse for him than it had been for Daryl. While the dog enjoyed the snow, very few others had, meaning he was usually the only living thing outside. And after being cooped up inside for too long, he had begun taking his frustrations out on the furniture.

Now that winter was giving way to spring, he was finally able to get out and enjoy himself again. The journey would be a long one and Daryl knew that he'd have to take frequent breaks, but the dog would be much happier with him than stuck in Alexandria.

With a final wave to those who came to see him off, Daryl revved the engine and let the dog set the pace. If it were just him and the bike, the trip would only take a few hours, but since he had the dog along, it would take him the better part of the day. Not that he minded. After spending the winter months with very little privacy, he was thankful for the chance to have some time to himself.

It also would give him some time to come to terms with the fact that he wasn't just going to Hilltop to check in. He had an ulterior motive, one that he wasn't comfortable mentioning to the others because he just knew they would give him shit for it. Maybe not as bad as Merle would have, but he still wanted to avoid the teasing.

It had taken him a while to admit it to himself, but part of his reason for going to Hilltop was the chance to see one of its newest members again: Connie.

The deaf woman had been in his thoughts all winter. At first, he had told himself that he was just intrigued by her because she had impressed him by both saving the baby from walkers and by daring to insist she come with him to save Henry and Lydia from the Whispers. Then she had proved herself to be just as good a tracker as him. And then. And then. And then. The list of reasons went on and on.

The one reason he had been most focused on in the last couple of weeks was how he had ever thought about using sign langue as an advantage in a world where the ability to keep quiet saved lives.

At no point had he allowed himself to imagine that his constant thoughts of her meant more.

So while he weaved around cracks in the pavement and watched the dog sprint along the roadside, he wondered if there were any places between Alexandria and Hilltop where he might find a book about signing.

~~~oOo~~~

It was the first day in a while that the sun managed to break through the clouds to shine upon the ground, and though it was still cold, Connie couldn't resist sitting outside at a picnic table to write.

Even though the world as they knew it had ended, her desire to write had never truly gone away. When it was too dangerous to take the time to do so, she had pushed it aside to focus on what needed to be done, but in the calm moments in between she had taken to documenting their journey.

Connie was lucky enough to still have her original journal from when everything began. She had only made a few entries in it before the world ended so it was surreal to see how different those few entries were to what came after.

Since then, she had written enough to fill two others and was nearly finished with a third so she needed to find a new one soon. Luckily, now that the weather was turning, they would begin to scavenge supplies so she would have a chance to find another one and maybe a few new pencils.

Just as she was wrapping up her latest entry, a dark canine muzzle appeared near her elbow and pushed its way under her arm. She dropped her pencil and carded her chilled fingers through the familiar golden fur, noting how thick it had grown during the winter months. The big dog leaned against her, panting heavily, as she scratched behind his ears.

Turning in her seat, she spotted Daryl making his way toward them.

Instead of the standard wave the people at Hilltop used to greet her, Daryl lifted his left hand to his head and signed the ASL 'hello', mouthing the word as well.

Pleasantly surprised, she smiled and returned the greeting.

"How are you?" he asked as he sat down next to her, laying his crossbow on the table.

Connie grabbed her small notepad that she used for communication and wrote 'good. You?'

"Fine," he said.

'What are you doing here?' she wrote and turned the page toward him.

"Just checking in."

Connie appreciated how he remembered to face her so she could read his lips.

He pointed to her other notebook. "What are you writing?"

'Journal,' she wrote. 'Tracking events.'

"Writing a history book," he said with a nod and she couldn't help but smile.

Who knew? Maybe what she wrote would be a history book someday. She certainly wouldn't be against writing the history of the communities. Might not be a page turner but it would be good to learn how everyone came to be where they were, how the communities began and continued to stand strong.

"Sorry if we interrupted," he said. "You can finish."

Connie nodded and held up a finger, knowing he wouldn't understand the actual sign for 'wait'.

Thankfully, Daryl didn't go anywhere. He just turned to his dog and began checking his paws. She admired him for a moment more before turning back to her journal.

It took her a moment to remember what she wanted to write, then she picked up where she left off, hand speeding across the page so he wouldn't have to wait long.

When she was finished, she shut the journal and turned back to him.

'How's Alexandria?' she wrote.

"Everyone's good," he said. "Walls held. Didn't see many walkers."

Connie loved that he wasn't much of a talker. He kept things short and simple, making it easy for her to keep up.

"How's everyone here?" he asked.

Connie tilted her hand from side to side before writing, 'We had to ration. Kingdom joining made us stretch our supplies."

Daryl nodded and patted his crossbow. "I'll hunt before I head back. See if I can get a deer or something."

Connie touched her fingertips to her mouth and pulled them away, mouthing the words 'thank you.'

For a moment, Daryl chewed on his lips, glancing from her face to her hands and back before leaning sideways and pulling a small book from his back pocket.

It was an American Sign Language book.

Connie glanced back up and him and watched as he said, "Found it on my way here. Will you teach me?"

She smiled and held up her fist, rocking it up and down as she mouthed 'yes'.

He mimicked her movement, nodding his understanding.

She then moved her fingers into a sort of beak shape and touched her index and middle fingers to her thumb before opening them again, teaching him the sign for 'no' while she shook her head from side to side.

Again, Daryl copied her movements and she watched his mouth as his lips formed the word.

He wasn't the first to ask, but she bet he was probably the most serious. He was one of the most serious people she had ever met, but even from their few interactions, she knew it was because he constantly worried about the people he called family.

Next, Connie made an inverted 'c' with her right hand just below her sternum and lowered it to her stomach while forming the word 'hungry' with her lips, then pointed to him.

"What?" he asked.

She couldn't help but smile again and remembered the motions he had made when he asked her to feed his dog back at the Kingdom. She lifted her hands and mimicked spooning food into her mouth.

"Hungry?" he asked, finally understanding.

She repeated her earlier motion and he followed suite, learning the correct sign. But when he didn't seem to realize she was asking him a question rather than teaching him, she pointed from him to the dog and repeated the sign for 'hungry' while pointedly raising her eye brows.

"Oh, are we hungry?" he asked and she nodded.

Daryl raised his right fist and nodded it up and down proving that he was a fast learner by answering 'yes' with the correct sign.

Connie stood and gathered her things, motioning for them to follow her back to her trailer.

It was ironic that the hunter and his dog had shown up that day considering her most recent journal entry had at least one paragraph of her wondering how winter had treated them.


	2. Chapter 2

_**Thank you for the review, follows, and favorites. I'm glad to see that there are others out there who are interested in this duo. Something I should probably have mentioned in my first author's note: I do not sign. I am not hearing impaired. Everything that is in this story is what I have learned either on ALS websites or in a couple of ASL books. If I am incorrect about any of this, I do apologize. I am open to **__**constructive criticism**__** so thank you in advanced. **_

The new day brought with it more sunshine and Connie found herself out beyond the wall with her sister and a few others, looking over the crop fields.

It was still too early to start planting, but as long as Mother Nature didn't decide to curse them with another cold snap, they could at least begin prepping the fields. For now, they were just checking the fences and wooden supports to see if they had made it through the winter or needed to be replaced.

Though Connie had been gifted with a green thumb before, she knew she was better suited to act as a guard, keeping an eye out for Walkers, so she kept her back to the fields and her eyes on the forest, watching for movement.

If she were honest with herself, she was also keeping an eye out for Daryl.

Reports from the wall said that he and his canine companion had set out before dawn. It was barely midmorning, so unless they were lucky, they wouldn't be back for quite a while.

Dinner the night before had been an odd affair. Knowing that Daryl was a bit of a loner, she wasn't surprised that having dinner with Kelly, Magna, Yumiko, and herself had unnerved him a bit, especially given that he was the odd man out in terms of familiarity. He had excused himself soon after finishing his meal, but was sure to stop and ask her how to sign 'good-bye'.

That was an easy sign, one many people used all the time without really being aware that they were signing.

Connie lifted her right hand toward her shoulder, palm facing him, and waved her fingers up and down.

Daryl followed her example and Connie couldn't help but smile because she was pretty sure that he would never have waved at someone like that otherwise. Seeing him do it made the action seem dainty and Daryl was anything but. He seemed more inclined to nod his farewells, or just wave his arm back and forth. If she wouldn't have already known how serious he was about learning, seeing him commit to the action now would have proved it.

Thankfully, pulling guard duty gave her some time to think about the best place to start teaching the hunter.

Before the end of the world, she would have just started with finger spelling and looked up various lesson plans online.

Now, the Internet was a thing of the past so the closest thing to lesson plans she had were what she could think up on her own and books – if they were lucky enough to find any. Although, Daryl had already managed to find one, so maybe it would give her a few ideas.

The other thing she knew she needed to take into consideration was the world they now lived it. There were many signs that she used to use in every day life that were no longer needed now, not to mention a few new ones that she and her group had just made up on their own.

While she began keeping a mental list of what she wanted to teach, Connie spotted a trio of Walkers stumble around the bend in the road.

She turned to find Kelly and the two of them readied their stances. They waited until the Walkers were within range before drawing back their slingshots, and moments later, two of their targets collapsed. Then it was a race to see who could take down the third.

Connie was half a second faster than her sister, stone catching the last Walker in the eye. As it collapsed, Kelly's stone shot over its head to bounce along the road.

Though she couldn't hear her, Connie knew Kelly was most likely cursing. She turned to her younger sister with a proud smirk, catching an eye roll. Kelly applauded and Connie couldn't help but respond with a mocking bow.

'I win,' Connie signed.

Kelly's only response was to roll her eyes again and playfully shove her away when Connie tried wrapping an arm around her younger sister's shoulders.

The next few hours of guard duty were much the same. Walkers continued to be drawn to Hilltop, and Connie and Kelly took turns taking them out with the other guards. They left the bodies where they lay. Someone would be out before midday to dispose of them elsewhere.

Movement to her right caught her eye and she turned to see Daryl's dog trot out of the underbrush. He stopped after a few paces, turning to look over his shoulder, and seconds later, Daryl came into view with something draped over his shoulders.

Connie instantly felt her stomach rumble, already excited for the fresh meat.

The dog trotted forward a few more paces after seeing his master safely out of the woods, then managed to catch sight of her. Breaking into a lope, the canine came straight to her and leaned against her legs so she could give his ears and neck a good scratch.

Even if Daryl wasn't already an interesting person, Connie knew she would still want to get to know him just because of the dog. He was so well trained. Even though she had never owned a dog before, she knew his level of training took a lot of time and patience.

She felt the air stir beside her and turned to see her sister throw her hands up in excitement. A giant grin was plastered across her face and Connie felt a matching one spreading across her own lips.

Hilltop had a few hunters, but considering their need to ration over the winter, none of them were on the same level as Daryl. No doubt everyone would be thankful for his contribution.

When she next looked up, Daryl was close enough for her to see that he had managed to get a decent-sized doe. A string of smaller animals hung from his belt and when he drew closer, Connie reached out to untie them. She counted two plump squirrels and four scrawny hares and was already excited to see what one of the cooks would make of them.

Turning to her sister, she signed, 'you ok?'

'Fine,' Kelly replied, glancing back and forth between them, brows high with interest. 'Go.'

Connie brushed off her sister's implication and followed Daryl up to the gate.

Just as she expected, he received a very warm welcome from Hilltop's residents. Many people stopped what they were doing to smile and wave at him. Connie saw a few people speak their thanks but as she could only see Daryl's back, she didn't know what his response was. But his strides remained purposeful and his body language gave away no hint of cocky swagger that she would have expected from others.

Daryl led her to the game prep station set up alongside the main house where they deposited his kills. He leaned back against the table and rolled his neck, stretching undoubtably sore muscles.

Connie held out her water bottle to him and he took it, thanking her with the appropriate sign.

After he finished a few sips, Connie decided it was time for another quick lesson.

She pointed to the bottle and held up her right hand in the shape of a 'w', tapping her index finger against her chin twice while mouthing the word 'water'.

Daryl copied her movements with only a little hesitation, closely studying her fingers.

Then she moved on to 'rabbit' next and he picked that up with little difficulty. The sign for 'squirrel' was a little more difficult. She had to step closer and reach out to adjust his fingers a bit, but again, he picked up the sign easily enough.

Connie was forced to bite her lips to keep her smile at bay when he hesitantly copied her sign for deer by spreading all ten fingers wide and placing his thumbs near his temples. But the adorableness of the ultra-serious hunter looking somewhat childish was priceless and she lost the fight as a laughed rumbled up her throat.

His look of embarrassment faded and he answered her laugh with a wry grin, as if he knew she had been saving that sign for last.

She pointed to each of the things they had just gone over and he responded with the correct sign each time, proving that teaching him wasn't going to be difficult.

The last thing she did was raise her right hand to touch her chin, then lower it to her left hand, keeping both palms flat while mouthing the word 'good'.

Again, he copied her.

Then Connie pointed at him, then signed 'good' again, wordlessly telling him that he was doing good.

He met her gaze and signed 'thank you'.

Her only response was another smile. The fact that he looked away bashfully only made her smile wider.

Daryl turned to his kills and pulled out his knife to begin the long task of separating the skins, but before he could get his hands any dirtier, Connie stopped him.

She patted her back pocket, pointed to him, then folded and opened her hands as if holding a book.

The hunter hesitated for only a moment before realizing what she was asking before reaching into his back pocket and pulling out the book he had showed her the day before. She took it and pointed to a nearby table before going to sit.

The small book he had managed to find was well-used, probably hidden away on someone's bookshelf, missed by those that were looking for food, weapons, and medical supplies. While books could be incredibly informative, they weren't exactly easy to carry around and usually ended up at the bottom of anyone's list of required items.

It wasn't the most comprehensive piece of material on American Sign Language, but it had a good deal of the basics. She made a few marks with her pen, starring what she wanted him to focus on and underlining a bit about facial expressions and body language being just as important as the signs. There was next to nothing about connecting signs to form sentences, so she pulled out her little notepad and wrote him a few notes.

When she was finished, she closed the book and looked over to where he was working, admiring the precision of his cuts and the efficient way he worked. But as much as she wanted to sit there staring, she knew there was more work to do.

Standing, she returned to his side and held out the book. He held out his bloody hands in response, and rather then set it somewhere for him to grab later, she walked behind him and slid the little book into his back pocket, a little embarrassed to have grazed his ass with her fingers.

Daryl stared at her over his shoulder and Connie held his gaze, enjoying their little game of chicken. Of course, he broke first, looking toward the movement they had both caught out of the corner of their eyes.

Connie grinned again and waved her farewell, heading back through the gate to rejoin her sister on guard duty.


	3. Chapter 3

_**I'm happy to see a few more follows and a couple of new favorites so thank you for that! Enjoy Chapter 3! Please leave a comment with your thoughts. **_

It had been a few days since Daryl had returned to Alexandria and rather than enjoy sleeping in after a long night standing watch, he found himself sitting at the dining room table attempting to sign the alphabet in between bites of his breakfast.

Dog lay at his feet, belly full from his own breakfast, content to bask in the sunlight streaming in through the window, knowing that no amount of begging would earn him a bite of Daryl's own breakfast.

Daryl had just made it to the letter 'j' when Dog sat up, ears twitching toward the doorway.

"Morning, Uncle Daryl!"

Looking up, he found Judith standing in the doorway.

"Hey, 'Lil Asskicker," he greeted, earning one of her sunny smiles.

"Don't let mom hear you cursing," she warned playfully as she went straight to Dog to scratch his ears. After earning a few happy thumps of his tail and a lick to the face, she joined him at the table, hooking her ever present deputy's hat on the back of her chair, and leaned close to look at the ASL book he had propped open in front of him. "What are you doing?"

"Tryin' to learn," he answered, slightly embarrassed to have been caught. He had kept his studies to his house, not wanting to be seen out in public practicing. Part of him wanted to be annoyed that she had just waltzed in unannounced, but honestly, the little girl was welcome anywhere.

"That's so cool!" She leaned a little closer and began forming her small right hand into the first few letters. "Does this look right?"

He nodded. "Yeah, you got it."

Together they worked their way through the alphabet, helping each other when they ran into a letter that felt unnatural for their fingers to form, and surprisingly he found himself thankful for the company.

"Why are you learning sign language?" she asked after they had made it all the way to 'z'.

"Just thought it would be useful," he replied, omitting the entire truth.

"For when you're out hunting and stuff?"

He nodded.

"That's pretty smart." Judith's eyes scanned over the pages before reaching out. "Can I take a look?"

Daryl nodded and finished off his toast while she flipped through the book. The little slip of paper with Connie's notes slipped out and landed on the table.

"Is that lady at Hilltop teaching you?" Judith asked as she eyed the paper.

"Mmhmm." He chewed on his thumb, a little nervous about where the conversation could possibly lead.

"Do you think she'd teach me, too?"

He gave her a curt nod. "Yeah, probably. Gotta ask your mom first if you can go to Hilltop."

"Or that lady could come here."

"Maybe," he replied, but wasn't sure how likely that was. From what he'd heard, Connie and her group hadn't exactly been welcomed to Alexandria with open arms. But then again, with their shared trauma from last year, the communities were more welcoming to each other again.

"What else has that lady taught you?" Judith asked.

"Well, I think this one's my favorite," he replied and lifted both hands to his head to form a pair of antlers.

Judith giggled. "That's just what adults do to make little kids laugh."

"Nope," Daryl said. "That's the sign for 'deer.'"

"Really?" she asked, then copied him, adding a silly face.

He scoffed at her. "Alright, quit makin' fun of me, 'Lil Asskicker."

"Daryl!"

They both turned to find Michonne standing in the doorway with her arms crossed, trying her best to look stern.

"She already told me off," Daryl said as he grabbed the ASL book and Connie's notes to shove in his back pocket.

"Don't worry, mama," Judith said. "Uncle Daryl knows that's the only cursing he's allowed to do around me."

"It better be," Michonne said, eyeing Daryl. "Can I steal Uncle Daryl for a while? We have some things to discuss."

"Why don't you take Dog outside? Make sure he doesn't get into anythin'."

Dog immediately jumped to his feet and pranced to the doorway, turning back to whine at Judith as she took her sweet time getting up and retrieving her hat.

"You really need to come up with a better name than just Dog," Judith said. "What about Buddy?"

"Don't you be callin' him anything but Dog," Daryl said. "That's his name."

"How about Lucky?"

"Girl," he growled and faked a lunge at her.

Judith took off with a giggling shriek, bolting for the front door with Dog hot on her heels. Michonne's face finally cracked into the smile she had been holding back.

"Best not find out she's secretly callin' him Buster or something," Daryl said.

Michonne smirked. "I think Hunter suits him better."

Daryl snorted but didn't respond, deciding to let her bring up whatever it was she wanted to talk about. He gathered his plate from the table and took it into the kitchen, not bothering to rinse off the few crumbs left before loading it into the dishwasher.

He still marveled over the fact that they had running water and electricity. Even though they had come to Alexandria many years ago, he still found himself in awe of the modern technology the little town had managed to hold on to. His years in exile after Rick's death with streams as the closest thing to water only served to strengthen his amazement. As ridiculous as it was, something as simple as a dishwasher saved so much time, time that could be spent on more important chores.

"I was thinking about starting up a training program again," Michonne finally said when he gave her his full attention.

"Didn't realize you had stopped," Daryl said.

Michonne leaned against the kitchen counter. "We still train to fight Walkers, but it's been a while since we've had to fight people."

Daryl could only nod because he didn't disagree with her. It had been years since they had to fight any actual people, a memory Daryl would rather forget. But after the Whisperers had shown themselves and killed so many people, there would be a demand for retribution. He was actually surprised that no one had spoken up about it much, but he figured the harsh winter they had endured probably served as a good distraction until now.

"I know we're still trying to figure out what to do about them." There was no need for her to explain who she meant. There was only one _them_ now. "But I'd feel much better if I knew our people could handle themselves."

"You askin' me to help?" he asked, quick to understand why she brought all of this up with him.

"Maybe," she replied, drawing the word out, as if waiting to see his reaction.

He chewed at the corner of his mouth for a moment. Daryl didn't mind helping because she wasn't alone in wanting everyone in the communities to be able to fight back and win if they came across the Whisperers again.

"Ain't much of a teacher," he replied, which he knew was a bullshit excuse. But the thought of being in front of a big group, all eyes on him, made his skin crawl.

"Just think about it," she replied. "Maybe consider doing a few one-on-one lessons." It was no surprise that she had already thought of his aversion to crowds. "At least, come with me to the next counsel meeting. They'll want your report from the other communities."

After his stop at Hilltop, he'd made his way to Oceanside to check in with everyone there. Their reports via radio over the winter months had been promising and Daryl was unsurprised to find them already preparing for the spring.

"Carol wants to go on the first boat out," he said.

Michonne's brows rose. "Really?"

He nodded. Carol had been one of the first people he'd spoken to when he got back from the other communities and as soon as he had mentioned Oceanside was already preparing one of their boats for the first fishing trip of the season, she told him she wanted to go.

"Is that a good idea?" Michonne asked and Daryl honestly wasn't sure.

Though Carol was one of the toughest women he knew, that didn't stop him from worrying. She had kept to herself during the winter, still participating in chores and guard duties, frequently going beyond the walls with him to take care of the few Walkers that turned up. But losing Henry had broken her spirit much in the way losing Sophia had all those years ago.

Daryl hoped that getting away from the communities for a while would help her, but he just wished it could be in a slightly different way in order for him to keep an eye on her, because no way was he getting on that boat. He wasn't much for bodies of water larger than the average pond, making the Atlantic Ocean completely out of the question in his book.

But Carol was adamant in her need to get away and at least this way she wasn't completely exiling herself.

"Might be what she needs right now," Daryl said. "To get away."

"To get away from Lydia, you mean," Michonne replied.

Daryl hummed an 'I don't know' and shrugged.

Though she hadn't directly said it, Daryl knew that Carol blamed the teenage girl for Henry's death.

He had hoped that the two of them might find comfort in each other, having both lost the boy they loved. But they hadn't and had even begun avoiding each other, which made for a very quiet and awkward house given the fact that he lived with the both of them.

Very few families had been willing to take Lydia in after finding out where she came from, so Daryl had volunteered to keep an eye on her, offering her a room in his townhouse next to Michonne's.

While he didn't blame any of them for being wary of the girl, Daryl knew the truth and wasn't about to let Lydia fend for herself. He understood some of the abuse she had gone through at the hands of her mother and he wasn't going to allow others to pick up where the woman had left off even if they were just doing it out of fear.

Lydia deserved better, and though he was a far cry from any sort of parental figure, he would do his best to make sure she was looked after.

"Where is she?" Michonne asked.

"Made her go to school," he replied. "Girl should know how to read."

Michonne laughed. "Wow."

"Shut up," he mumbled.

"Just interesting coming from someone who can barely read himself," she teased.

"I can read! Just got more important things to do."

"Uh huh, sure, Dixon," Michonne said. "Then what were you and Judith looking at when I came in?"

His body tensed and for a moment, Daryl was tempted to hide it from her, but he knew she'd just ask Judith later.

"Learnin' sign language," he replied, telling her the truth but refusing to elaborate.

Michonne's right eye brow rose along with the right corner of her lips.

He glowered at her, silently warning her not to question him further.

"Counsel meeting's in an hour," she said as she walked backward to the kitchen doorway.

Daryl nodded. "I'll be there."

Michonne left, smirk still firmly planted on her lips.

In the space of just a few minutes, his carefully kept secret was discovered by two people. Thankfully, neither of them teased or made fun of him. Though he knew Michonne wanted to ask why just like Judith had, he knew she wouldn't believe him if he told her the same thing he'd told her daughter, that he thought it would be useful. Michonne would see right through his evasion and know there was more to it than that.

But how much more to it was there?

It was a question Daryl had asked himself over and over, but still couldn't come up with an answer that felt true.

At the moment, the closest answer he had – besides the 'because sign language could be useful' one – was that it was inconvenient for Connie to depend on notepads or one of her companions to communicate.

Before he could begin questioning his intentions any more, Daryl pulled out the ASL book again and forced himself to go back through the alphabet, determined to have it memorized before he went on his next run.


	4. Chapter 4

_**I know this is probably going slower than some would like, but trust me, we're getting into the first part of Season 10 soon. I just wanted to throw in a few things that I imagined happened beforehand because we know Connie had been teaching Daryl a bit before their scenes together in Episode 1. This chapter is a bit of Daryl/Dog team-up. Gotta love and man and his dog. **_

It had only taken Daryl a week of being back at Alexandria to get restless again. His years alone in the woods made the walls feel less like a security measure and more like a cage.

In an effort to feel useful, he and Dog ventured South, keeping to their side of Alpha's border, but going far beyond familiar territory. Daryl knew that the communities were due to start sending out scavenging parties again so he figured he'd scout out a few spots on his own to save everyone time.

That was how three days later he came to be standing in front of the fallen walls of an overrun community.

Bodies littered the ground in every direction, left to rot in the warming spring temperatures. Blackened blood made the grass under his boots crunch with every step. The smell was nearly overwhelming and Daryl had a bandana wrapped around his lower face in a half-assed attempt to ward away the nauseating breeze. Even Dog, who lived for disgusting scents, seemed hesitant to lower his nose to the ground.

Leaving the relative safety of the open field, Dog led the way through the downed walls into the community. Daryl kept his bow up, ready to squeeze the trigger if needed, and studied the layout.

The space was set up similarly to Alexandria, with homes taking up a majority of the space. However, this one didn't have the sturdy steel walls like Alexandria did. Wooden walls still stood in small sections, but a herd had taken down the rest, trampling it to splinters.

Dog growled, signaling Daryl, and he turned to find a couple of Walkers shambling down the cluttered street.

"Bait," Daryl said and watched Dog take off. The canine slowed down as he drew close to the first Walker and danced around it, staying well out of reach, but distracting it enough for Daryl to come up behind it unnoticed. He swung his bow across his back and drew his knife, grabbing the Walker by the hair before thrusting the blade into the back of its head.

When both Walkers had been put down, Daryl patted his leg and Dog came prancing over. "Good boy," he praised as he gave the canine a few rough slaps along his ribs, keeping him primed to continue.

They continued through the community much the same, with Dog distracting any Walkers they came across and Daryl putting them down with his blade.

The sun wasn't quite ready to set by the time they had cleared the whole community. All that was left was each individual building, but they hadn't heard much noise from any of them. If there were Walkers trapped inside, then it was only one or two, not a horde ready to swarm them.

While it might have been smarter to search the smaller homes first, Daryl opted to go through the community's common area because he knew that was where he'd find the most remaining supplies. Food was always the most important thing so he headed toward the building where a dozen or so picnic tables were gathered around.

The sign out front had been smashed at some point, but he could still read enough of it to know that the big brick building in front of him was once a library.

Inside, he found a few more tables and chairs. The small café had been repurposed into a sort of kitchen. A few shelves had been cleared of books and pulled closer to make room for supplies and that was where he hit the jackpot.

He lingered long enough to take a mental inventory, noting that there was a good supply of pickled vegetables, then wandered further along to see what else the place might hold.

There were only a couple of Walkers, ones that he put down with his knife, keeping his bow strapped across his back like he had outside. Given how spaced out all of the Walkers had been, there really wasn't a need to risk damaging one of his bolts.

The farther into the library her ventured, the darker it became so he drew his flashlight and scanned for a section of books that might be useful. Alexandria and the other communities had a good library between them, but he knew there was always something else they could learn.

A raspy breath was the only warning he received before a hand closed around his ankle and pulled his feet out from under him. He crashed into a shelf, then the floor, driving the breath from his lungs.

Kicking against the grip on his leg, he found a Walker dragging itself out from under an upside down arm chair. Its head was still trapped underneath so he couldn't get a clean shot. He shoved at the chair, knowing he'd have more luck putting the Walker down than breaking free of its grip.

Drawn to the sound of his struggle, another Walker rounded the corner and practically fell on him, pinning him to the floor.

The Walker grabbing at his leg began pulling itself free of the chair. Teeth snapped at his boot and he continued kicking while he shoved his arm under the chin of the Walker draped over his chest.

Dog barked twice, then began snarling, and the hand around his ankle loosened, then disappeared.

Finally, he was able to locate his lost knife and drive it into the skull of the Walker on top of him. He tossed the body aside and sat up to find Dog pulling at the pantleg of the Walker that had tripped him.

"Release!"

Dog let go and danced away from the Walker now crawling toward him.

Daryl regained his feet and planted a boot between the Walker's shoulder blades. He grabbed the thing's stringy hair and slammed his blade into its temple.

Taking a calming breath, he sheathed his knife and turned to his canine companion.

Dog practically pounced on him, doing a sort of full body wag with lots of happy whining.

"Good boy," he muttered over and over while running his hands over the dog, patting and petting while he squirmed.

When the animal had finally calmed down enough to stop dancing around his feet, Daryl gave the area another quick look, taking a second to grab a few things that he knew would be appreciated, before retreating outside.

After another quick trip around the community, Daryl settled on a house. It was one of the few whole ones left, front door left wide open instead of caved in from the weight of the dead pressing against it. The cabinets were filled with jars of food, no doubt produced by the community's own gardens. He added a few to his pack so he didn't have to stretch his rations as much, but enjoyed a few sweet bites of raspberry preserves after his dinner of deer jerky and trail mix.

The sun was setting when he locked himself and Dog into one of the upstairs bedrooms. Dropping his supplies beside the nightstand, he collapsed on the queen-sized bed. Dog explored the room, sniffing every nook and cranny until he had their scents memorized, then hopped up to join him, laying against his left leg.

Daryl reached down and patted the animal's flank, glad for the extra warmth.

He had always known he was a closet dog man. He'd never had one as a kid, but a couple of the neighbors had. One in particular had kept a mangy shepherd chained to a tree in their backyard, and it wasn't usual for him to sneak over when no one was home to play with it.

To have found a lone pup still alive in the world they existed in now had been a miracle, one he was incredibly thankful for. The animal had helped fill a void, one that Daryl didn't like to think too much about.

Training him had been interesting to say the least. Dog was smart and had picked up most commands with ease. But he was also stubborn, rivaling Daryl in that aspect, but not quite matching him there.

He continued stroking Dog's fur, only half realizing he was doing it, but the action seemed to put both of them at ease.

In the morning, they'd begin the trip back home to inform everyone of his find and accompany the next scavenging party. But first he'd pass along the few things he'd picked up and maybe learn another couple of signs from a certain brown-eyed Hilltop resident.


End file.
